Who Needs Gender Roles?
by inuzrule
Summary: Three small oneshots, grouped together, about the coupledom that is Ito and Makoto. [“Red is true love, white is innocence and reverence.” Makoto stated, apropos of nothing.  “What?”  “The language of flowers, roses in this instance.”]


**Who Needs Gender Roles?**

Makoto stared unabashedly at the mess that was his kitchen.

Pots and pans were scattered across every available surface. The stovetop had not been turned off, and something that had been cooked in oil sizzled. There were splatters and scratches and spills everywhere. The plates in the sink were eye-level, and there was a large green and white colored rag draped over the dish drainer. There were spots of food on that rag, and Makoto suspected that the green coloring had not been there when the cloth had first been bought.

As he looked upon the scene, the plates shifted in the sink with a clatter, and the bubbling oil burst into a smoky flame, crispifying the already burnt food within it. His face fell. Why oh WHY did Ito have to leave the cleaning up to him?

It had been quite a nice meal, actually, not perfect in every respect, but Ito was being unnaturally feminine for the day, and she felt that a large repast was what the two of them needed. He offered to help out, seeing as he wasn't a bad hand in the kitchen himself, but all Ito had to do was growl at him, and he happily left her to her work.

There had been all sorts of food, some of his favorite dishes, and some of Ito's. Yet, for the life of him, he couldn't remember what they had eaten. He'd been far too focused on the splendor sitting across from him. His mind had been going into overtime, imagining a scene like this every day for the rest of his life.

And when she had left, the cold outside already turning her cheeks red, eyes sparkling delightedly at the freshly fallen snow that awaited her, she kissed him, she was so euphoric. But, before leaving, she mentioned that there was quite a mess in the kitchen, and would he mind cleaning up? She had asked so casually, he had assumed it was nothing, and gallantly proclaimed that he would most certainly do so. The smile that graced her features made him feel like he was the biggest saint in the world, and she cheerfully made her way outside, calling out that she would see him Monday.

Now, Makoto felt a vein in his forehead twitch, ever so slightly, and his eye flickered in annoyance. He would be up all night with the cleaning, and it was already 10:45. Sighing, he rolled up his sleeves, and dug in.

Even as he scrubbed pots and scoured dishes, he remembered Ito. Her sweet kiss, which he still felt. Her look of adore as he announced that cleaning would be no problem whatsoever. He chuckled slightly. Yes, he could certainly see himself doing this for the rest of his life.

---

Ito readjusted her tie, growing very much annoyed with the scrap of fabric. No matter how much practice she had with the thing, she still felt like setting it on fire every time she wore it.

"You ready yet?"

"I'll be out in a bit. I've still got my hair to do!"

"Well, hurry up! We'll be late!"

Ito brushed imaginary dust off a spotless collar, and tossed her suit jacket over the entire thing. As she buttoned it up, taking her time, the clatter of the bathroom door hitting the wall startled her senses. Quickly, she twirled…only to feast her eyes on the wonder that was Makoto. She had to hand it to him, he never did things by halves.

"Ta-da!" He spun around so she could get a good look at him. He had on his old blonde wig, curled into ringlets. His makeup was done up very nicely, light pink lipstick that suited his coloring, and carefully applied eye shadow in a shade of blue. He wore a strappy, black, backless dress, which clung to him, and black ballet flats, to make the illusion consummate. Any other high-heeled shoe would have cast him as taller than Ito.

Ito was also dressed to the nines, wearing a very formal black suit, polished brown shoes, and with her hair slicked back. She looked every bit the handsome male of the couple, and Makoto the giggling blonde girlfriend.

"Wow. You look stunning!"

"Think anyone'll notice?"

"Not likely!" Ito snorted, reflecting on how her partner managed to look prettier than she on every occasion, even in a suit.

"I really wish you'd reconsider…your friends already think I'm a crossdresser."

"My friends won't even be at this event. Most of my co-workers already think I'm a male…and besides, know one will notice. You fooled all our classmates for two straight years! You'll fool the big boss himself wearing that thing." Ito briefly touched the fabric of the dress, transfixed by the sheen of the silk, before pulling away to look into the mirror once more, adjusting her tie for the umpteenth time.

Thin, strong hands wrapped around her waist from behind, and Makoto's head poked over Ito's padded shoulder to meet her eyes in the reflective glass. Ito's dress shoes had at least two inches of lift.

"You nervous?"

"…a little, I guess. How could you tell?"

"You always try to calm me down when you're the one that needs it most." Makoto reached up and started rubbing the tenseness out of Ito's neck and shoulders. Immediately, she relaxed, head drooping in utter relief.

"Better?"

"Much. One of these days you'll have to teach me that."

"Some other time. Like you said, we should leave. We'll be late."

"You're right." Straightening, Ito tugged once more on the hated tie, turned, and faced Makoto. She smiled softly at his feminine appearance, grateful that he was the one wearing the dress. She always was more comfortable in men's clothes, despite the wretched cloth around her neck like a noose, and she needed that now. Gently, she tucked a lock of his (fake) hair behind his ear, and kissed him on the base of his neck, so not to muss his makeup.

In one fluid motion, Makoto pulled away from Ito's embrace, before going back to grab her hand. As he dragged her from their apartment, she interlocked her fingers with his, squeezing his fingers in a silent question. He tightened his grip in answer, and the two strode out the door, ready to take on the world.

---

Valentine's Day. She couldn't believe she had forgotten, on their third together as a married couple. Ito ran through the store, searching for flowers to give to Makoto. Hurriedly, she asked a young store clerk where the bouquets were. She smiled, and pointed Ito to the rear of the store. Thanking her, she dashed madly towards the rear.

She selected a bunch of red and white roses, and then made a mad dash for the candy and cards aisle. Frantically, knowing Makoto would be back from his part-time job in less than twenty minutes, she grabbed a box of chocolates, a small card with a large red heart on the front, and began to sprint for the register. She was halfway there too, when, of all the luck, she crashed into another running customer.

"Itai…" groaned Ito. "Sumimasen! Let me help you with those." Apologizing profusely, Ito knelt to pick up the fair-haired individual's merchandise.

Ito stared at the items that had fallen to the floor. Surprisingly, she had bought the same things as the person who sat before her. As the fellow customer joined in the cleaning up, Ito's guilt kicked in.

"Again, I'm very sorry. I don't know what took over me. It was entirely my fault. Please forgive me."

"And what makes you think I will?" Makoto reached under Ito's chin, and lifted her head to see her face. Recognition flooded its fine features as she gazed into his own, and surprise colored her eyes.

"You forgot too?" Since they had first celebrated Valentine's Day as a couple, both had bought tokens of their affection for each other, stomping on the tradition that only females bought gifts and chocolate. He nodded, flushing somewhat in embarrassment.

They sat there, staring at each other, drinking in the other's appearance. Ito had done herself up for the occasion, a burgundy skirt and white blouse, her feet trapped in pointy-toed dress shoes and white stockings. Her brown hair, which had been getting quite long recently, was put up in a ponytail at the back of her head.

He too was dressed up somewhat, in neatly pressed khakis and a fuzzy red sweater, abandoning his sneakers for black brogues. His own hair was tied back in an identical ponytail, which unintentionally mirrored her's. She grinned at this. Slowly, their minds were becoming one, she thought.

As one being, they rose. Ito's eyes alighted on the two bouquets of roses, both red and white.

"Red is true love, white is innocence and reverence." Makoto stated, apropos of nothing.

"What?"

"The language of flowers, roses in this instance."

Ito smiled, plucking a rose from its captivity with the others. She silently handed it to him, and he delicately sniffed its fragrance.

"A rose for a rose…" they quietly quoted in unison, and walked the short distance to the register, both arms twined around the other's waist.

---

_Author's Notes: Oh, wow. Unintentional pattern and chronological sequence of time here. First one-shot set before graduation; Mako's point-of-view. Second, a year after marriage; Ito's point-of-view. Third, three years, as stated; kinda both, especially towards the end there.  
_

_Really, I haven't gotten past volume three of the series, but I love it so. The characters of Ito and Makoto are so vibrant and well-defined. I see these two as the sort who would defy most gender roles. Like, Ito going out and getting a big-shot corporate job and working as a CEO, while Mako stays at home, working a part-time job in between acting stints. And then, Ito comes home, changes out of her suit, and sits down to a meal made by Mako. Maybe she'd make the meal if he was busy. But we all know who'd get stuck with the cleaning up! Knowing all this, I tried to avoid titles like husband and wife within the set of one-shots. _

_A note on Valentine's Day and the third one-shot - Valentine's in Japan is mostly a day where girls give the guy of their affections chocolate, store-bought or homemade, usually the latter. Guys return the gifts three-fold on White Day. I originally wrote the shot from Mako's stance, but remembered just in time that Ito should be the one running around, getting knowing glances from smirking shop clerks, running into her partner at the last minute. So I went around changing all the pronouns. dies[ Of course, Makoto just had to show up with gifts of his own, so maybe it would have been okay if I'd left it alone...whatever. If it seems off to you, now you know why._

_Itai means ouch. Sumimasen is "I'm sorry" or "pardon me" in Japanese._

_Hope you enjoyed reading. Please review! _


End file.
